The Mark of Fate
by mpissott
Summary: Cullen is infatuated with the Inquisitor from the moment they meet. Little does he know, she feels the same. Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware.
1. Chapter 1

When Cullen first met the Herald, she appeared quite distressed, no doubt due to the erratic green mark emblazoned on her left hand. She suddenly appeared from a stealthy cloak, having decapitated a lesser shade right before his eyes. Without sheathing her dagger, she focused all her energy on the rift above them, and within moments, it disappeared.

Not wanting to give the prisoner any more recognition than she deserved, he turned to Cassandra and inquired, "Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done."

"Do not congratulate me, Commander," the Seeker elaborated, "This is the prisoner's doing."

At this, Cullen was forced to turn his attention to the prisoner, the possible criminal that began this whole catastrophe. He observed her in as much detail as he could, wanting to assess the danger she posed. The prisoner turned to him, her dark brown locks flowing around her. He looked into her chartreuse eyes, filled with fierceness, yet showing no animosity toward him. He followed the scars that started at her right brow and ended at her lips. Oh_ Maker_, her lips. Now _they_ could kill a man just by the thought of them. Assessing the prisoner led Cullen to believe that she was not dangerous in relation to the Breach. As for the danger she posed to him? She could either be the best thing in his life or his worst nightmare.

All these thoughts came to him within the time it took him to reply, "Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here."

Cullen saw the prisoner wince at the thought. "You're not the only one hoping that," she countered.

"We'll see soon enough, won't we?" Cullen concluded. Fearing that his eyes were lingering too long, he turned to Cassandra and said, "The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there."

"Then we'd best move quickly. Give us time, Commander," Cassandra nodded.

That was the last time Cullen had seen the prisoner-turned-Herald. Now he, Ambassador Montilyet and Sister Leliana were awaiting her arrival, as well as Cassandra's. He heard footsteps growing closer and his heart skipped a beat. He was unsure of why, but since he met the Inquisitor, he's been shaken. Every time her presence is discussed, it takes everything in his power to pretend like she doesn't phase him. But she does. In truth, the Commander has thought about little else since their first meeting. He has every reason to be wary of her; Maker, she's the only one to have made it out of the Breach alive. But all he wanted was to know her.

Cullen collected himself as Cassandra and the Herald entered the room, adjusting his posture and doing everything in his power to show no one his true thoughts.

Cassandra began introductions with Cullen. "May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."

The Herald's piercing eyes flashed to him and he felt his cheeks flush. She shot him a friendly smile and nodded, forcing Cullen to find the words necessary to continue the exchange. "Such as they are," he elaborated, "We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through." Talking about the soldiers was one thing that came easy to him, though he'll admit it was not _nearly_ as easy as usual.

Cassandra continued with her introductions, allowing Cullen time to observe their Herald. He watched as her eyes flashed from Josephine, to Leliana, to Cassandra and back. He noticed the smirk rise at the corner of her mouth when Cassandra and Leliana were bickering, noticed the strands of hair she was constantly pushing back behind her ear when they would fall in front of her face. Her armor hugged her tightly in all the right places, exposing her curves but leaving a tantalizing amount to the imagination. Her hands moved gracefully, as a result of her precise work with daggers, or something else he had yet to learn about her. But he wanted to learn. Within minutes of meeting her, he knew the Herald was a force to be reckoned with, and he desperately wanted to be involved in whatever this woman did.

He snapped out of his trance when they were discussing methods of closing the Breach. He interjected that the templars could work just as well as the mages. Just as the debate between Leliana and he became heated, Josephine interrupted, "Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition and _you_ specifically."

"That was quick," the Herald retorted humorously.

"Some are calling you the Herald of Andraste. That frightens the Chantry," Josephine explained. "The remaining Clerics have called it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you."

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra interjected.

"It limits our options. Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question."

"Just how am _I_ the Herald of Andraste?" The Inquisitor looked genuinely confounded by the statement.

"People saw what you did at the temple," Cassandra said. "How you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen at the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste."

Cullen took this opportunity to get to know more about the Herald. "It's quite the title, isn't it?" he asked, feigning confidence while simultaneously feeling like his heart was going to jump right out of his chest. "How do you feel about that?"

The Inquisitor turned to him and his heart almost stopped. "I don't really know what to feel," she sighed. Her genuinely confused and flustered expression made him want to reach out to her. He wanted to help her figure all of this out.

"It seems the Chantry has decided that for you," Cullen replied.

The Herald, Cullen, and the rest of the advisors continued to discuss strategy and plans for the future. They were prepared to explore the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle, who was willing to give them advice to appease the Chantry. However, instead of setting off immediately, the Inquisitor dismissed the advisors, saying, "I'd like to become more comfortable with everything here before we leave. I'll reconvene when I'm ready." And with that, Cullen took his leave.

It was hours later, at sunset, when he saw the Inquisitor again. He was training recruits when she caught his eye. He pretended not to see her while he instructed the young soldiers.

"You there! There's a shield in your hand. Block with it. If this man were your enemy, you would be dead." He turned to his lieutenant when he saw the Inquisitor drawing near. "Lieutenant," he started, "Don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one."

The Herald looked much less distraught than the first two times they had met. Maybe she had rested since they spoke, or maybe she was just spending time getting to know everyone, but whatever she did, it was clearly good for her. She was radiant as she approached Cullen, making it even harder for him to muster words.

"H-hello, Herald," Cullen stuttered, with a cordial nod of his head. "We've received a number of recruits-locals from Haven and some pilgrims." Feeling bold, he turned to her and said, "None made _quite_ the entrance you did."

At that, she smiled. Maker's breath, was she lovely when she smiled. In truth, she was lovely all the time. But this is the first time Cullen had seen her truly happy since they'd met. "At least I got everyone's attention," she retorted playfully. "And Cullen," she said, putting her hand on his arm, "Please, call me Victoria. Or, if you're not comfortable with that, at least Trevelyan." Her smile, instead of putting him at ease, set his heart aflame. She was so sincere, and her touch so caring, that Cullen caught himself staring at her nervously. Her eyes and those beautiful, Maker-given lips enraptured him.

When he composed himself, he swallowed hard, saying, "That you did." He hoped she hadn't noticed him acting so foolishly. Yet again, if she noticed, she was kind enough not to mock him.

Relinquishing his arm, she stood tall and asked, "Where were you recruited from, Commander?"

"I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself." Talking about this made him much more comfortable. She sensed it, and her demeanor became less stiff the more freely he spoke. "I was there during the mage uprising-I saw the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse."

With that, Trevelyan looked down at her hand and frowned. She didn't seem to think Cullen noticed, but he did. Her expression lasted just long enough for the attentive Commander to pick it up. "I must have this for a reason," she said. "It will work. I'm sure of it."

"Provided we can secure aid-but I'm confident we can," he explained. "The Chantry lost control of both the templars and mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There's so much we can-"

He lost track of his words when he caught her smiling at him. He realized he had been rambling and automatically tried to correct himself. "Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture."

"No," she admitted, "But if you have one, I'd love to hear it."

That elicited a chuckle from the Commander. "Another time, perhaps," he beamed. She smirked at him in a way that made his heart drop into his stomach. "I, ah…" he stuttered, clearing his throat. "There's still a lot of work ahead."

Just then, a recruit came over with a report and Cullen took that as his opportunity, to relieve himself of more embarrassment. "As I was saying," he concluded. "We will speak again, Trevelyan."

"That we will, Cullen."


	2. Chapter 2

It had been days since the Herald last spoke to Commander Cullen. Still, the memories of their short conversations where ingrained in her mind. She didn't know what it was about him, but he was so intriguing. Obviously, there was the physical aspect; the Commander was nothing short of gorgeous. He was clearly strong, but didn't overtly show it. His pauldrons covered what Victoria knew were defined muscles. She found him to be a more than competent fighter, as well. Then, of course, was his face. Maker, she'd never seen a more perfect face. Charming smile, stubble across his chin, and a deep look in his eyes, like he held secrets; ones that the Herald was far too eager to learn. The most intriguing feature on his otherwise perfect face was a scar that ran along his upper lip. She wondered if there was a story behind it, and if he would share it with her. She also wondered what it would be like to kiss it. Actually, she could embarrassingly admit that she pictured the scene, as well as kissing the rest of the ex-Templar, far too frequently.

Victoria had just returned from the Hinterlands with Cassandra, Solas and Varric; they had recruited Revered Mother Giselle to the Inquisition's cause. The Herald's eyes searched vigorously for the Commander, but he wasn't training the recruits as usual. She tried to hide her disappointed expression as she continued to look for the one person she wanted to see.

The Herald wished to continue her search, but was distracted by sounds of shouting coming from just outside the Chantry. She rushed to the location only to find mages and templars causing the commotion.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" an enraged templar shouted.

"Lies," one of the mages countered, "your kind let her die!"

Just as the fight was about to become physical, a familiar face stepped in. Commander Cullen put himself between the two parties and shouted, "Enough!"

"Knight Captain-"

"That's not my title," Cullen interrupted. "We are _not_ templars any longer. We are _all_ part of the Inquisition."

Victoria admired the scene in front of her. Cullen's clear show of bravery was not lost on her. She admired his passion, his dedication to the Inquisition, and his indiscriminate handling of the situation. She knew how he felt about the mages-he had made that clear in their first War Room meeting-but even so, he handled them respectfully.

She sauntered over to the Commander, who managed to disperse the crowd but was now accompanied by none other than Chancellor Roderick. Despite the Chancellor's direct disapproval of the Inquisition, Victoria could not hold a grudge against the man. However, his glibness was enough to drive her insane sometimes.

"Mages and templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death," she heard Cullen argue.

"Which is why we require a _proper_ authority to guide them back to order," the Chancellor countered, antagonistic as usual.

"Who, you? Random Clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?" Victoria had to admit, seeing him so passionate made her stomach flutter.

"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste'? I think not."

Victoria decided it was her turn to interrupt. "I don't know," she began, "the Inquisition seems about as functional as any young family." If the Chancellor wanted to antagonize, she would surely oblige. She was almost positive that when she spoke a blush ran up Cullen's cheeks.

"How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare themselves?" Ouch, the Chancellor had a point there; she wouldn't tip her hat though.

"Yes, because that would never happen to the Chantry," Cullen persisted.

"Centuries of tradition will guide us. We are not the upstart, eager to overturn every apple cart."

"Remind me why you're allowing the Chancellor to stay?" Victoria turned to Cullen then, and lost her concentration for a minute.

"Clearly your _templar_ knows where to draw the line."

Cullen visibly winced when Chancellor Roderick called him a templar, but straightened up and said, "He's toothless. There's no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The Chancellor's a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."

Cullen was _so_ right. By the time the Herald returned from Val Royeaux, she was exhausted. Revered Mother Hevara, during their meeting, was knocked out by a templar. Then-the leader, Lord Seeker Lucius-denounced the Inquisition _and_ the Chantry. Two good things came out of it though-new recruits; Sera, who was a part of the group the Friends of Red Jenny, and Vivienne, the Enchanter to the Imperial Court in Orlais. Now that she was back at Haven, all she wanted was to rest. Sadly, that could not be done. She had to search the perimeter for a logging stand and for an old alchemist's notes.

Cullen was training recruits, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure marching into the woods. His curiosity got the better of him, and he turned around to see none other than the Herald.

Before he could think he was running towards her, shouting, "Herald! I-where are you going?" She turned around and acknowledged his presence as calmly as she usually did.

"Oh, hello Commander. I'm going to run a few errands for the people of Haven. I need to find a logging stand and some notes." She pushed her hair back behind her ear-a small gesture which was becoming one of his favorites-and smiled.

Cullen knew he couldn't let this opportunity pass. Feigning bravery, he took a deep breath and responded, "I see. May I accompany you? You shouldn't go alone."

When Trevelyan looked away, his stomach dropped. He had pushed it too far; she had barely given any indication that she was interested, and he was too bold. But as his thoughts were racing she looked back up at him, smirked, and said, "As long as I can take this time to get to know you better."

Cullen had to fight the blush that was rising to his cheeks. There was _no way_ he could resist an offer like that, so he started walking alongside her, and chuckled, "Alright, what do you want to know?"

"I'd like to know more about the templars."

Ordinarily, Cullen would attempt to avoid all conversations about life as a templar. It was all far too scarring for him to bring up. But looking into Trevelyan's eyes and seeing her genuine interest, he had to just suck it up and answer whatever she wanted to ask. "If you need insight into what the Order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know," he started, "Anything else I will answer as best I can."

"Hmm, where to begin…" she pondered as they entered an old building not far from camp. "Why did you join the Order?"

As he was helping her sift through papers on the desk, he explained, "I could think of no better calling than to protect those in need. I used to beg the templars at our local Chantry to teach me. At first they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise. Or at least a willingness to learn. The Knight-Captain spoke to my parents on my behalf. They agreed to send me for training. I was thirteen when I left home."

When he broke from looking for the papers, Trevelyan was looking right at him, listening intently. She was genuinely interested in what he had to say, about a subject that should be of little interest to her. He took in her features as he did all he could to gather his thoughts. She had beautiful olive skin, littered with freckles across her cheeks and nose. He got to examine her lips closer now; they were a supple pink, and plump. They looked so soft, that Cullen couldn't help but wonder how they would feel pressed against his.

The silence broke in the form of papers scattering. Trevelyan bent down and shouted, "Oh, Maker's breath! I'm so clumsy." She even sounded virtuous when she was swearing off the Maker, which brought a smile to Cullen's face. "Ah, here they are!" she beamed, "Now we don't need to clean up the rest of the papers!" She stuffed the papers in her bag and Cullen followed her out the door.

"So, thirteen-that's still so young," she continued when they started on their path to the logging stand.

"I wasn't the youngest there," Cullen elaborated. "Some children are promised to the Order at infancy. Still, I didn't take on full responsibilities until I was eighteen. The Order sees you trained and educated first."

"What about your family-did you miss them?" she inquired, barely skipping a beat.

"Of course. But there were many my age who felt the same. We learned to look out for one another."

"Well, that's good," she countered. "Do templars take vows? 'I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages'-that sort of thing?"

Her animation when she was reciting her example elicited a chuckle from him. "There's a Vigil first. You're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself to a life of service. That's when you're given a philter-your first draught of lyrium-and its power." He grew somewhat quiet when he thought of the lyrium, but if he was going to talk to anyone about all this, he wanted it to be her. "As templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen."

Trevelyan and Cullen located the logging stand and she marked it on her map, placing a beacon there so others could find it. She took a thoughtful pause before she answered. "A life of service and sacrifice," she pondered, "Are templars also expected to give up...physical temptations?"

Now _that_ caught him off guard. He ended up tripping on a snow drift, and he brought Trevelyan down on top of him. Making no effort to move, he stuttered, "Physical? Why..." he cleared his throat and continued, "Why would you...That's not expected. Templars can marry-although there are rules around it and the Order must grant permission...Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's, um, not required."

She persisted, all of her weight resting on top of him, "Have you?"

Cullen barely stopped his eyes from popping out of their sockets before replying, "Me? I...um...no. I've taken no such vows. Maker's breath, can we speak of something else?"

He finally made eye contact with her, only to see her smiling uncontrollably. She was reveling in his embarrassment! She thought she had won their little exchange, but he didn't want her to take her victory to heart. He swallowed and reached his hand up to the stray hairs above him, slowly placing them behind her ear for her. He saw her expression change from victory to shock, and then to a tender smile. She placed her hand on the scar above his lip, tracing it, and he flipped her over so he now sat on top of her.

"I think I won, don't y-" His gloating was interrupted with a snowball to his face, pushing him backwards and allowing Trevelyan to get back up. He gathered his own mound of snow and threw it at her as she tried to goad him into chasing her. He obliged, and they threw snowballs at each other all the way back to the main camp at Haven.

They were laughing uncontrollably until they were greeted by none other than Cassandra. She looked at them with furrowed eyebrows. "What are you two doing?" she demanded.

Trevelyan looked at him with a smirk and responded, "Oh, nothing Cassandra. I'm going to get cleaned off. I'll see you later, Cullen." She knew the answer wouldn't satisfy the curious Seeker, and she winked at him before setting off to her quarters.

He would have gladly watched her saunter off, but he reluctantly fixed his gaze on the Seeker, who asserted, "Don't distract the Herald, Commander." He heard Trevelyan laugh so loud that it echoed through the complex.


	3. Chapter 3

Victoria made her way back to her quarters at Haven, pondering what just happened with Commander Cullen. She had tried to make her interest in him obvious since their first encounter, but the Commander had been quite coy and a little awkward in his responses. When they went out into the forest together, his bold behavior surprised her. The one thing she noted from the experience was that he had noticed what she did with her hair. It was always in the way and she was constantly pushing it behind her ear. When she fell on top of him, he cared enough to do it for her. More importantly, he _noticed_ that she even did it. She wasn't sure what his intentions were, but she wanted desperately to find out.

Their encounter was cut short by Seeker Pentaghast, however, and now she was off to bed. She bathed, hoping to unwind from the long day she had. Her mark was no longer growing, but that didn't mean it no longer troubled her. Since the day at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she'd tried to recall exactly what happened before she stepped out of the Fade. All she had were the memories pieced together for her. On top of that, whenever she was near a rift-and she had been near many in Redcliffe-the mark would sting. None of this would be easy, that's for sure. When she felt herself relax enough, she put on her night clothes and went to bed.

Cullen was almost grateful when Lady Cassandra interrupted the Herald and his' encounter. Not that he didn't want to spend time with her-that couldn't be farther from the truth. However, the longer they spent near each other, the more nervous he got. No one ever had this effect on him. He'd been interested in women before, but just one word from the Herald made him blush. Plus, he wasn't really sure what to make of the way she acted toward him. She was clearly very playful, and asked _invasive_ questions, to say the least. What if she did that with everybody? _Of course she does_, Cullen thought. _How could she be even remotely interested in me?_ Compared to the Herald, Cullen thought himself completely ordinary, verging on boring. She was stunning and endearing, and there was no way he could compare.

He could no longer concentrate on the prospect of training recruits, so he decided it was time to retire to his quarters. There's no way he could think of anything other than his encounter with Lady Trevelyan, at least for the rest of the night.

He was on his way back to the Chantry to check on something in the War Room first, when he heard screaming. His eyes darted left and right, trying to find the source. His stomach was torn up when he realized that the noise was coming from the Herald's quarters. If someone was trying to hurt her, Maker help them. They would not survive the encounter if he had anything to say about it. He rushed to her quarters, only to find no one in the room but the Herald herself, screaming and crying in bed. He looked down to her mark to see that it was flaring up, when he realized that she was having a nightmare. Cullen knew far too much about nightmares, as he experienced them almost every night since the incident at Ferelden's circle. For him, the suffering was common; to see the same pained expression on her face was excruciating.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he sat on the side of her bed, trying to wake her from the horrors that plagued her. "Trevelyan, it's okay," he muttered. When she wouldn't calm down, he grabbed her marked hand and brought her forehead to his. "Trevelyan, it's Cullen. You're safe. Just focus on me and it'll all go away." He began to rub the mark on her hand, hoping that easing her pain would bring her back to reality.

Slowly, Trevelyan came out of her terrifying slumber, and her shocking green eyes trained on his as their foreheads pressed together.. As her breathing slowed, she began to shiver, and Cullen removed his overcoat and placed it on her shoulders.

She separated from him, gaze still fixed on his eyes, and adjusted the coat. Oh, Maker, even now she was beautiful. Her hair was tousled from an obviously rough slumber, she had no makeup on, and her face was wet with tears, yet she was still flawless.

Realizing that his silence while admiring her may make her uncomfortable, he broke it to ask if she was okay. By now she had stopped shivering, and was calm enough to speak clearly. "Yes, I'm better now," she assured. Then, before he could think, she threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Cullen."

They embraced for a long time, Trevelyan's fingers rustling the back of his hair. Ordinarily the act would bother him, but since it was her, he found only comfort in the gesture. "Not a problem," he whispered, rubbing her back. "I was just going to get some tea, I'm having trouble sleeping as well," he lied. "If you'd like, I can bring some back for you."

She broke her hold and Cullen thought he overstepped his boundaries, but she replied, "That would be lovely! Tea would probably help." She gave him a tired smile and seemed to grow even more comfortable in his coat, nuzzling herself in the fur pauldrons.

Cullen nodded to her and took his leave, which was probably good since the sight of her in his coat was enough to make him kiss her right then and there. He walked into the tavern and ordered two cups of tea from the bar maid. "You're lookin' real hot and bothered, yeah?" He heard someone say behind him. He turned around to find the tiny elf, Sera, speaking to him.

Not wanting to give himself away, he explained, "Ah, well, Trevelyan just had a bad dream and I thought she was being attacked."

As much as he tried to brush it off, Sera wouldn't bite. She looked behind him at the bar and said, "Nice night for tea, innit? Who's the second cup for?"

He coughed at her boldness and stuttered, "I-uh-Lady Trevelyan."

She smirked, knowing that she caught him. He was too eager to get back to Trevelyan to entertain her, and she could read that all over his face. "Yeah, well, enjoy your tea and ladybits there," she said with a smirk.

Cullen laughed out loud at that, and took the tea back to the Herald's quarters. She had repositioned herself so that she was sitting on the bed with her legs folded, almost all of her disappearing in the overcoat she was still wearing. She looked like she was meant to be in his coat. Before he embarrassed himself, he handed her the tea and turned back to the door, only to hear her say, "Cullen, wait…"

He turned around and looked into her eyes, seeing a degree of sadness and fear to them. "I-I was hoping you'd stay for a little while. If you have other things to do it's fine, I just…"

Understanding, he nodded and sat down in a chair next to her bed. They sat in silence, sipping their tea. Cullen thought he was being awkward, until he looked over to Trevelyan to see her smirking at him.

"What?" he chucked. Seeing her face so changed from before was a relief.

"I wasn't done asking you questions, Commander."

"Oh dear. Alright, what other intrusive questions do you have for me?" he played along.

"Hey! My questions aren't that bad. They're really not 'trip on your own two feet and fall in snow' bad." Ooh, she had him there. She knew she was victorious, and the smirk spread across her face, making its way even into her eyes. "I should get to know you better. We're working together, after all."

"What would you like to know?"

"All right…" she pondered. "Where are you from?"

"I grew up in Ferelden, near Honnleath. I was transferred to Kirkwall shortly after the Blight...This is the first I've returned in almost ten years."

Trevelyan's eyes widened. "You haven't seen Ferelden in ten years. Are you glad to be back?"

Cullen swallowed hard. This was a topic that was so hard for him to talk about, but worth it if it meant Trevelyan would be happy. "I was not sorry to leave at the time. I did not expect to return. Now-between the Divine's murder and the Breach-I've arrived to find nothing but chaos."

"And a friend," the Herald interjected. He looked up at that, and Trevelyan pulled him by the hand onto her bed.

"W-What are you doing, Trevelyan?"

"It's _Victoria_, Cullen. You're too formal; consider this me trying to loosen you up, okay?"

He chucked, his face mere inches from hers, and whispered, "Okay."

She sat up and positioned him across from her, trying to get him to mirror her posture. Of course, he obliged and she continued, "You were in Ferelden during the Blight. Did you fight darkspawn?"

"No," he elaborated. "I was stationed at Ferelden's circle tower. The Circle had troubles of its own. I...remained there during the Blight."

"What happened at the Circle Tower?"

His stomach dropped and fear flooded into his body. "Few who have survived the Blight have fond memories of that time. I would prefer not to speak of it."

"Oh, okay," she whispered, and Cullen saw her expression turn to a frown and back before she pressed, "What was Kirkwall like?" She relaxed herself at the head of her bed, and Cullen relaxed as well, glad that she had not continued to ask him about Ferelden. Kirkwall wasn't _much_ better, but he could at least talk about that.

"While I was there, Qunari occupied and then attacked the city, the Viscount's murder caused political unrest...relations between mages and templars fell apart, an apostate blew up the Chantry, and the Knight-Commander went mad. Other than that, it was fine," he explained, waving his hand like it was nothing.

"Holy shit!" Trevelyan shouted, immediately correcting herself, "Oh, I'm sorry. Someone called the 'Herald of Andraste' probably shouldn't say that. But I can't believe all that happened!"

He could tell she was growing tired now. She looked at him, her eyes slightly less excited than before. He didn't even realize what was happening when she laid her head down across his legs, now stretched across the length of the bed. Facing up towards him, she asked, "Is this okay?"

Cullen impulsively mustered a strained, "Yes," as he tried to contain himself. She was so close to him that he could barely stand that their skin was not touching.

"Good," she sighed, closing her eyes.. She began playing with the material at the bottom of his shirt before casually continuing. "What happened between Kirkwall's mages and templars?"

His voice caught in his throat and then grew deep at their closeness. "You were at the Conclave. You must have heard people speak of it." He willed himself not to give his attraction away, and distracted himself by playing with her hair. "There was tension between the mages and templars long before I arrived," he sighed. "Eventually, it reached a breaking point. There was fighting in the streets. Abominations began killing both sides. It was a nightmare. The templars should have restored order, but red lyrium had driven Knight-Commander Meredith mad. She threatened to kill Kirkwall's Champion, turned on her own men. I'm not sure how far she would've gone. Too far. I stood with the Champion against her, in the end. But I should have seen through Meredith sooner."

"Varric's from Kirkwall," she noted lazily. "Did you two know each other?"

"I knew he was friends with the Champion, but little else. We've spoken more since I joined the Inquisition. Largely at Varric's insistence. Apparently I spend too much time with a serious expression on my face, and it's bad for my health."

Cullen looked down to see Trevelyan asleep in his lap. She was so much more peaceful than before. He whispered, "Goodnight, _Victoria_." Before falling asleep himself.

Victoria woke up, only to realize that the Commander was no longer there. She looked outside to see that it was late afternoon; she slept almost all day. Cullen's overcoat was still around her. It smelled like him, making her smile and nuzzle into the pauldrons again. She saw a note on her desk, reading:

_ Victoria,_

_ I did not wish to wake you. Your trip to Redcliffe has been postponed a day at my insistence. Enjoy your sleep._

_ Regards,_

_ Cullen_

She smiled and got dressed, putting Cullen's overcoat on as she stepped out of her quarters. The Commander was so sweet to her, probably more so than she deserved.

She found him at his usual post, training new recruits. When their eyes met, he smirked at her and turned to face her, making her bold gesture that much harder to follow through on. Before she could over think it, she walked up to him and put the coat around him. She pressed her forehead to his, whispered, "Thank you," and gave him a light kiss on his scar before confidently walking away. She could swear she heard him mutter, _"Maker's Breath,"_ as she walked away, smiling triumphantly.


	4. Chapter 4

The Herald _knew_ what she did to Cullen; she had to. Cullen realized early on that Victoria Trevelyan knew just what to say and do in order to get a reaction out of him as though he were a nervous school boy. He was feeling confident after the night they had; if he had to stay up all night with anyone, he would prefer it be with her. But when Victoria came out to return his overcoat, it's like the confidence he possessed was swept out from under him. He instantly grew nervous, and then, to top it all off, _she kissed his scar_. Trevelyan was playing a game with him, no doubt.

Cullen's nerves were only exacerbated when the advisors were summoned to the War Room to discuss the events at Val Royeaux. He was still embarrassed from their previous encounter; after all, his recruits and Cassandra almost certainly witnessed the scene unfold. Now, he had to deal with the consequences of that.

When he entered the War Room, however, it was only occupied by Victoria. His eyes searched, and she must have sensed his trepidation. Though she was not facing him, she suggested, "You can come in, Commander, I won't bite. I just got here first."

Cullen readied himself and walked to the other side of the table. The Herald looked up at him, as though to formally acknowledge his presence. "Did you sleep well?" she inquired.

"Well, for whatever reason I fell asleep sitting completely upright," he sarcastically retorted, "But having a charming young lady fall asleep in my lap was of no discomfort."

Her eyes darted back up from the map on the War Table, clearly flustered by his response; if this was a game to Victoria, Cullen would play. "Ah, I see…" she replied, gathering her thoughts. "Well, it's funny Commander, I fell asleep in the lap of a dashing man last night. And I slept wonderfully."

"Shouldn't we all be so lucky?" Cullen asked, eliciting a small smirk from the corner of Trevelyan's mouth as the rest of the advisors and Cassandra entered.

Josephine, as per usual, started with business immediately. "We heard of your encounter."

"You heard?" Cassandra questioned.

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course." Leliana quipped, drawing out a small chuckle from Trevelyan.

"It's a shame the templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital," Cullen added.

She looked up, then, eyes focused on him. "At least we know how to approach the mages and templars, now."

"Do we?" Cassandra objected, "Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember."

"True. He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been...very odd."

"We must look into it," Cullen suggested. "I'm certain not everyone in the order will support the Lord Seeker."

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead," Josephine argued.

Cullen did not want the Herald to go to the mages. He did not distrust all mages, but these ones deliberately turned away from the Circle; he was certain they could not be trusted, and if they couldn't, Victoria shouldn't be anywhere near them.

"You think the Mage Rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!" He shouted before he could catch himself.

"I could at least find out what the mages want," Victoria countered. While Cullen did not want to put Victoria in harm's way, he knew that if she had made up her mind, there was no point arguing.

Cassandra must not have figured out how thick-headed their Herald was. "No doubt what they've always wanted: support for their cause."

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe. The mages may be worth the risk," Josephine concluded.

"They are powerful, Ambassador," Cassandra explained, "but more desperate than you realize."

"So it'll be dangerous," Trevelyan sighed, "I've been in danger since I walked out of the Fade."

She had a point there. Either way, they had all agreed that they did not have enough influence yet to approach either party. The Herald would have to use her charisma to extend the reach of the Inquisition, which Cullen thought should be an easy task for her. They had planned for Trevelyan to visit the Storm Coast to acquire a mercenary group and their leader, and Redcliffe to find a Grey Warden, and eventually approach the rebel mages.

As the War Room cleared, Cullen noticed that Trevelyan had something in her hair. He reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder, and removed it. As it turns out, it was fur from his pauldrons. "Well, what have we here?" he jested, staring down at her. "It appears you have some fur in your hair, Herald."

"Yes," she chuckled, "Well, I fell asleep in some mangy overcoat and it left traces of fur all over me."

"I'll remember that, Trevelyan."

"Don't," she retorted, somewhat seriously. "I could get used to sleeping in that jacket."

That, as usual, left Cullen speechless. Victoria smiled from ear-to-ear, leaving him blushing in the War Room alone. He'd have to get her back for that one.

He had a great deal of time to think of a witty reply, but could only concentrate on the danger the Herald was putting herself in while she was away. Ordinarily, Cullen knew she could take care of herself, but even agreeing to speak to rebellious mages could end in conflict. If Trevelyan disagreed with them, or they were setting a trap for her...he couldn't bear to think what could happen to her. He did his best to concentrate on the necessary day-to-day tasks, but he continued to press Leliana for any information she had.

"Why are you so worried, Commander?" she asked him one day, probably the tenth time that day he had asked for a report. The Iron Bull and Blackwall, the Grey Warden, had arrived, but there had been no sign of Trevelyan.

"The Herald...is important," he stuttered. "This Inquisition would be nothing without her and she needs to stay alive."

"Sure," Leliana snorted, "that's why you've had those sad puppy eyes all week. I'm onto you, Commander. I'm onto Trevelyan, too."

Cullen stopped in his tracks, tempted to ask what she meant, but just walked away. She's onto Trevelyan? He didn't have time to think about what that meant.

A few days later, Victoria, Solas, Cassandra and Varric returned from their trip. Cullen sighed with relief when they arrived, tempted to run up to Trevelyan and hug her. Looking at the expression on her face, Cullen paused. She looked entirely frustrated, and acknowledged no one. He watched her slam through the doors of Haven, and shot a worried glance at Cassandra. All Cassandra did was shake her head. Hopefully, Cullen would catch up with Trevelyan later and make sure she was alright.

As soon as Victoria reached Haven, she knew where she needed to go. She went to her quarters and changed into her most comfortable clothes-a deep blue, three-quarter sleeve shirt, and the softest, loosest pants she owned-and went straight to the tavern. She needed alcohol, and a lot of it. To her surprise, she found Sera and Solas sitting together, Sera handing him a flagon of liquor.

"Hello, you two," Victoria greeted them. "Surprised to see you guys even in the same room together."

"Mopey elf is getting drunk, Herald. I had to see if he's at least a _little_ more interesting that way," Sera joked.

Solas definitely wanted to get drunk for the same reasons as she did. Meeting the rebel mages in Redcliffe was a disaster. They had enslaved themselves to a Tevinter magister who happened to be working for the person who created the Breach. _Perfect_.

"I'll have what he's having," Victoria shouted, pointing at Solas, "but double the amount."

"Yeah, Herald!" Sera shouted, making room for her at the table.

Cullen had searched everywhere for the Herald. He spoke to the other advisors, searched her quarters, the War Room, and still not a trace of her. Just when he was ready to call a search party, he heard her laugh echo through the complex.

He entered the tavern, which is the place he least expected her to be. She was with Sera and Solas, also an unexpected combination. She noticed him immediately and rose to greet him. "Cullen!" she shouted, much louder than necessary, "It's so good to see you!" she charged at him and put her arms around him, the small braid she put her hair in nearly hitting him in the face. "Come sit with us," she slurred, dragging him along and forcing him to sit down at their table.

"Cullen!" Sera snickered, "Can we get you drunk, too?"

"I'll have a few drinks," he chucked, "But you're not getting me drunk."

The four of them sat and chatted, though with Solas and Trevelyan being drunk, and Sera being...well, Sera...much of the conversations didn't make sense.

That was until Sera asked, "So, did you two do the deed the other night? Made the beast with two backs, yeah?"

Trevelyan spit out her drink and was sent into hysterics at that. Cullen was severely embarrassed at that point, when Solas interjected, "As if I needed more incentive to vomit right now. I'm going to bed."

Cullen was just about to get up himself, so he could stew in his humiliation. Of course she thought the idea was funny. Cullen was awkward; he had some experience with women, yes, but when it came to Trevelyan he had no clue what he was doing. She couldn't have been interested in him. But as he rose, she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down into his chair. "Oh, sit down you," she mumbled. She turned to Sera and replied, "No, Sera. No...beast with two backs, or whatever. Cullen's a sweet man, he'd never take advantage of me like that."

Before he could even react, he felt Victoria's hand searching for his own. She intertwined her fingers with his under the table, like it was their little secret. He had to fight the smirk and blush that followed, and Sera replied, "Ugh! Now you're gonna make _me_ barf. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, losers."

Trevelyan chuckled and watched Sera leave. Then she turned her head, resting it on the table. "You really are sweet, you know," she whispered, hand still grasping his.

"Thanks," he replied, playing with her fingers lazily while he spoke. "What happened at Redcliffe?"

"It was a load of shit, Commander," she sighed. "The rebel mages enslaved themselves to the Imperium under a magister that directly wants to attack me. The plus side is we met this lovely mage, Dorian, who used to work under magister Alexius and wants to help us take care of him." She shrugged, like it was an ordinary experience.

Her eyes were flickering open and closed, so Cullen suggested, "Victoria, can I walk you to your quarters? You really should sleep."

"Of course," she nodded, sobering up a bit from before. She relinquished his hand, and the space where hers was felt sadly empty. But he rose, pulling out her chair, and prepared to escort her to her quarters.

It was a silent trip. When they arrived, she turned to him, nodded, and whispered, "Goodnight, Cullen."

He nodded and turned away, heading to his quarters when he felt her grab his hand again, and suddenly he found her in his arms. She looked up at him. Maker, beautiful wasn't a strong enough word to describe her. Her hair, a deep auburn, was growing longer now, and it was clear she had difficulty restraining it, her braid loose and hairs jutting out. She had no makeup on and the freckles on her face were more prominent as the alcohol reddened her cheeks. Her eyes, such a bright green, practically glowed in the night. And even though she was in baggy clothing, her shirt almost falling off her shoulders, she was flawless. "Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?" she blurted out.

"No," he replied quickly, "I fear I made few friends there, and my family's in Ferelden."

She placed her hands on his chest and inquired, "No one special caught your interest?"

Cullen, mustering all the bravery he could, explained, "Not in Kirkwall."

He walked away from her then, hopefully leaving her as flustered as she usually left him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ugh…" Victoria groaned, trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. _Why do I feel like I've been hit over the head? _she thought. It was a few minutes before she remembered how much she had to drink the night before. To be honest, she was lucky she remembered anything; though, the memories of Cullen were clear in her mind. His embarrassment when she laughed at Sera's comment, the feel of his hand in hers, and the answer to her question: he found no one of interest _in Kirkwall_. That part stuck out clearly in her mind. Searching for its meaning would take time, however-time Victoria did not have at the moment.

She needed to make herself presentable. The Herald of Andraste stumbling around Haven in her clothing from the previous evening with unwashed hair could not be beneficial for the Inquisition's image. She bathed and dressed in her armor, allowing her curls to flow unchecked, forgoing her usual forced straight hair. When she decided that she looked dignified enough, she headed to the war room; it was time to confront Magister Alexius.

Cullen was in the war room early, hoping to catch up on some strategy. He should have been working, but spending time with Victoria was _very _distracting. He was pondering all the events of the night-his embarrassment, her surprisingly small hand in his, his final boldness of the evening-when the door to the war room opened and closed abruptly, scaring him out of his thoughts. He instinctively reached for the sword at his side, until he recognized the figure standing before him. Trevelyan's head was pressed up against the door, which muffled what he thought was a groan escaping from her lips. Her hair fell in front of her face, more free than usual; it was beautiful enough to stop his lips from forming words at her presence.

"H-hi," he finally stuttered, causing her to turn around abruptly with a hand on her blade. _Birds of a feather_, he thought, having to stifle a laugh and their similar reactions to unexpected company.

"Oh," she whispered, "It's just you. Thank the Maker." she tried, and failed, to adjust her posture. She slugged to the war table, head pointed down. "Maker, it's so bright in here."

That was when Cullen bursted out laughing. "Trevelyan, there's very few windows in here. Are you hungover?"

"Unfortunately," she mumbled, "I've been trying not to alert all of Haven; I thought I was alone in here and could have a few minutes to collect myself. Why are you here? Not that I mind your presence."

"I was out with a rather drunk young lady last night," Cullen smirked, "so I'm catching up on troop movements. Did you even remember that I was with you last night?"

She looked up at him then, mustering the smallest of smiles, "Of course," she retorted, confidence evidently flowing back into her at his question. "In fact," she continued, "I recall that I was escorted back to my room and left slightly flustered and sadly alone."

It took all of Cullen's strength to stifle the blush that was quick to respond. _Sadly alone_, he repeated to himself. If he had known she was seeking his company he would have obliged in a heartbeat. The two of them were in the middle of a staring contest when Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra entered. Trevelyan smiled, and then broke eye contact, greeting the others as enthusiastically as she could without worsening her headache. Cullen almost blushed again when he realized that he was the only one that Victoria let see her vulnerable side.

Trevelyan placed a delicate hand over Redcliffe Castle, indicating that this was their next move. Cullen disliked the idea, immediately arguing, "We don't have the manpower to take the castle! Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense and go get the templars." Victoria would be putting herself in too much danger. If Cullen could stop her, he would.

"Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister," Cassandra countered, "This cannot be allowed to stand." He respected Cassandra, but sometimes he really hated her.

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It's an obvious trap." _Thank you, Josephine_, he thought.

Victoria scoffed, causing all of the advisors to stare. "Isn't that kind of him," she chuckled, "What does Alexius say about me?"

"He's so complimentary that we are certain he wants to kill you," Leliana retorted. He was unsure of whether she was amused or annoyed by the Herald's jest.

"Not this again," Josephine sighed.

"Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults," he interjected. Looking at Victoria, probably more tenderly than he should have in front of everyone else, he continued, "If you go in there, you'll die. And we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it."

"And if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power at our doorstep!" Ugh, Leliana was annoying him now too.

"Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught. An 'Orlesian' Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied." Josephine was quickly becoming his favorite.

"The magister-"

"Has outplayed us," Cullen interrupted Cassandra before she could continue.

"We can't just give up," Trevelyan said solemnly. "There has to be something we can do." She looked at Cullen, trying to reassure him with her eyes. It wouldn't work.

"We cannot accept defeat now," Cassandra agreed. "There must be a solution."

"Where is the Arl of Redcliffe? I'm sure he'd help us get his castle back." Trevelyan was relentless.

"After he was displaced, Arl Teagan rode straight to Denerim to petition the Crown for help. I doubt he'll want our assistance once the Fereldan army lays siege to his castle."

"Wait…" Leliana paused, clearly remembering something important. "There is a secret passage into the castle, an escape route for the family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through."

"Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister," Cullen argued.

"That's why we need a distraction," Leliana explained. "Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?"

He looked to Victoria, who nodded for him to concede. "Focus their attention on Trevelyan while we take out the Tevinters. It's risky, but it could work."

"Fortunately, you'll have help," an unknown voice interjected. A man entered the war room, and Cullen looked at him skeptically. Mostly his eyes were on the man's mustache, but he quickly adjusted to concentrate on the man's words.

"This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander," one of their scouts explained.

Trevelyan and the man smirked at each other, causing Cullen to relax a bit. If Trevelyan trusted him, Cullen would have to.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So, if you're going after him, I'm coming along."

"The plan puts you in the most danger," Cullen said, facing Victoria. "We can't, in good conscience, order you to do this. We can still go after the templars if you'd rather not play the bait. It's up to you."

"We're doing it," Trevelyan said without a moment's thought. "We'll need a few hours to get ready and then we'll set out for Redcliffe Castle. You're all dismissed."

As Cullen was walking out, fear apparent in his stomach, Victoria's hand grabbed his arm. She closed the door behind everyone else and looked him straight in the eyes. "Cullen…" she started.

"You could _die_, Victoria," Cullen began before he could stop himself. "You're so much more valuable than simply being the Herald of Andraste. You're-"

Victoria rushed toward him now, placing her hand behind his neck and drawing his forehead to hers. "Listen to me," she said calmly, "Nothing is going to happen to me. The magister has played all his cards. We're a step ahead. I will make it out alive and when I do, you and I are going to sit together all night and talk like we did the other day, do you understand me? The only thing that's going to change is that there will be one less dangerous magister to deal with."

He sighed, looking her in the eyes. She seemed as though she believed it. Either that, or she was quite the actress. Regardless, hearing the words come out of her mouth made him relax. "Alright," he sighed, putting both his hands through her hair. This thing, them touching their foreheads, had become so comfortable. When they really needed each other, this is how they showed one another that they were really there. It was their own moment, a time that belonged to them and no one else. "I'm holding you to this, Trevelyan. I'll never forgive you if you die."

"I won't," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek before walking out of the war room.

It had been far too long since Cullen had heard anything from the Inquisition's agents. They had absolutely no news for him, which was possibly worse than having bad news. Not knowing Victoria's fate was killing him, so much that training the recruits was actually painful.

Just as he was about to give up, he saw people walking towards Haven. It was the magister in shackles. He searched the crowd when finally he saw her. Covered in dirt and dried blood, Trevelyan was sauntering back to the stronghold, appearing more confident than ever. He could have kissed her right then and there if it wasn't for the crowd now surrounding her.

He stood there in shock, and eventually the crowd dispersed. Trevelyan looked at him only very briefly and whispered, "I don't feel like eating with everyone else tonight. Can you meet me in my quarters with food?"

"Absolutely," he smiled, and she sauntered off to her quarters.

Victoria closed the doors to her quarters and collapsed. She was so tired. She was barely able to remove her clothing to bathe. Sitting in the water, she pondered what happened. The destruction, chaos-all because one magister had removed her from time. There was so much relying on her...it was too much.

She heard the door to her quarters open and knew it was Cullen. She wanted to keep up this proud facade even for him. "I'll be there in a minute" she lilted, stepping out of the bath and into only a long sweater and knee high socks. Planning to put on her show once more, she turned the corner into where her bed was, her eyes meeting those of the dashing Commander. She wanted to play her part, but when she looked into his honest eyes, her walls fell.

"I...Cullen, I…" she started, not knowing what to do. She felt herself spiraling out of control, and grasped at her own hair, hoping to find some of her strength resting there. Her eyes darted to him, and it was obvious that he sensed her panic. "Cullen, I can't…" tears were streaming out down her face now, completely out of her control. Her vision was clouded but she felt Cullen's familiar body rush to hers and she completely collapsed into him.

"I don't want to be the Herald," she sobbed. "There's so much pressure and Cullen, I can't…"

"It's okay," Cullen whispered, stroking her hair. When she calmed down slightly, he continued, "You say you can't, Victoria, but you _have_ so far. No one could have been as strong as you; no one here is as strong as you even now. You can do this. We can take things a minute at a time if we have to, okay?"

Victoria did not look up at him, but he felt her breathing slow, which he would have to take as reassurance enough for now. "Okay," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. He took her then, picking her up and bringing her to her bed. He went under the covers with her and let her rest her head on his chest. He grabbed the food he placed on her end table. It was pasta-he learned it was her favorite.

"Trevelyan, I know you're tired, but can you just try to eat a little for me? You're probably undernourished."

She looked back up at him again for the first time since he entered and nodded, taking the bowl from him. She took a bite and closed her eyes, "I needed this. Thank you," she explained. "Cullen, I'm not okay. But I will be. This was all just a lot to handle."

"Of course," he said, stroking her hair while she ate. "And I'll be here."

"Good," she said, and he saw her smile genuinely for the first time since she returned to Haven.


	6. Chapter 6

Cullen woke up to Trevelyan wrapped in his arms, one of her hands intertwined with his. After he had convinced her to eat, they sat up talking about anything and everything. It was not long, however, until she drifted off, exhausted from her experiences in Redcliffe. Before she fell asleep, she took Cullen's hand and snuggled into his coat. He had never slept so comfortably.

He sat still for a time, using it to take in the Herald's beauty. Her hair was unruly, a result of the chaos surrounding the previous evening. Curls, something he didn't even know Trevelyan possessed until the other day, twisted through her locks, cutting through one another and reaching just past her shoulders. Her lips curved into a small smile, making Cullen wonder what she was dreaming of. The one hand not holding his hand was grasping at his undershirt loosely, a gesture that was somewhat uncomfortable but not at all unwelcome. She was in a dark red sweater that reached her mid thigh, and knee high socks, leaving a great deal of her tantalizing legs exposed. Trevelyan was not tall by any means, but her legs stretched to the end of her bed, forcing Cullen to follow every curve of her body with his eyes on the way up.

When he returned his gaze to her face, he realized that she had been looking up at him for quite some time. "Enjoying the show?" she smirked, pulling her hand from his and slipping it around him in an embrace. "Did you sleep alright?" she inquired.

"Yes, this was quite better than last time," he chuckled. "How about you?"

"I was safe and sound in a Commander's arms, what do you think?"

He looked down at her and pressed their foreheads together. "Good," he whispered, his tone deeper than he intended. She must have sensed it. As her thumbs drew beneath his undershirt, she drew her face even closer to his. Just as Cullen closed his eyes, her door swung open, causing her to jump.

"Herald, it's-oh!" Leliana's familiar voice rang out. "Sorry, Herald. I was unaware you were not alone.

A blush spread up his cheeks, and for the first time when he looked at Trevelyan she was visibly blushing as well. "It's alright," she stuttered, attempting to clear the hunger building in her throat. "What is it?"

"Well I was hoping we could all gather and discuss the strategy for closing the Breach this morning, so by the evening it may be done."

"Ah," she said, and Cullen thought he sensed an undertone of sadness. "Very well, we'll meet in the war room in ten minutes, yes?" With that and a nod of Victoria's head, Cullen rose from her bed, ready to kill Leliana, and walked out with the spymaster.

They walked silently into the war room where they were greeted by Cassandra and Josephine. "What took so long? Where is the Herald?" Cassandra inquired. Interrogated, more like.

"The Inquisitor is getting ready, she just woke up. I had difficulty finding Cullen, as he was sleeping in the Inquisitor's room," Leliana lilted, humor running through her voice.

Cullen and Cassandra groaned at the same time, though Cassandra's was more of confusion than frustration. Josephine was joining in on Leliana's merriment when Victoria walked in.

"All right," she sighed, still half asleep. Her hair had been pulled back in order to tame it, though parts were still down by her face. "What's the plan?"

"The best of the mages are ready, Herald," Cullen explained, trying his best to remain professional despite his fellow advisors' teasing. "Be certain you are prepared for the assault on the Breach. We cannot know how you will be affected."

"We start our trek to the temple in 3 hours then. In the meantime I'll make sure our companions are all properly outfitted and ready. They need to know that this is something they do not have to see through if they're scared." _Always thinking of other people_, Cullen thought, bringing a smirk to his face.

This time Cullen was the one to grab Trevelyan on _her_ way out of the war room. "Trevelyan-Victoria," he began, correcting himself. No matter how professional he had to remain in front of others, he could not remain that way when they were alone. "My statement from our last war room meeting still stands-you better survive. A world without you is, frankly, one not worth saving."

She let the blush rise to her cheeks. "Plus," she added, "I feel like we have some unfinished business to attend to _when_-not if-I survive the closing of the Breach. Time to go be the Herald." She smirked and left the room, and brought all of Cullen's confidence with her.

Victoria always managed to surprise herself. Despite all her doubt and panic, she was able to close the Breach. She stared down at her left hand, marveling at the ability that was pooled in the center of her palm. Closing the Breach was only a small part of the battle that the Inquisition had to fight, but it was a start. She could finally relax a bit.

She watched the refugees of Haven dancing around a fire pit, revelling in their success, when her mind darted to Cullen. They were _so _close to finally confirming their feelings in the morning; though, now that she was significantly less useful in terms of saving the world, she wondered what use she would be to him. She was accustomed to people desiring her for her power. Though the nobles of Ostwick did not hold much, many tried to marry her in an attempt to rank up. Why should Cullen be different? _But he _is _different_, she reasoned. Surely if they could just talk-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Cassandra at her side. "Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed," she stated triumphantly. "We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain, but this is a victory."

Cassandra looked like she could hug Victoria, but she knew that the Seeker would be too prideful. She wrapped her arms around Cassandra for just a second and offered a smile, which Cassandra returned.

"Word of your heroism has spread."

"You know how many were involved," Victoria scoffed. "Luck put me at the center."

"A strange kind of luck," Cassandra chuckled. "I'm not sure if we need more or less. But you're right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory. With the Breach closed, that alliance will need new focus."

Just then, a warning rang out through Haven and Victoria saw Cullen running toward the center. "Forces approaching! To arms!" he shouted, worry obvious in his eyes.

Dorian and Solas responded immediately, accompanying Victoria and Cassandra to find out what was going on. When they reached Cullen, Josephine and Leliana were already there. "Cullen?" Cassandra inquired immediately.

"One watchguard reporting. It's a massive force. The bulk over the mountain.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked.

"None."

"None?"

Just then, there was a banging on Haven's doors. "I can't come in unless you open!" A young voice shouted. Victoria, trusting the voice instinctively, opened the doors and was greeted by a young man in a rather large hat. Cullen was by her side immediately, sword drawn. "I'm Cole. I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know."

"What is this? What's going on?" Victoria questioned.

"The templars come to kill you."

"Templars? Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?" Victoria looked back at Cullen and could see the hurt in his eyes. The templars were his people, and in many ways still are. To see them become this...she wanted to hug him, but there was no time.

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One" Cole explained. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages. There" Cole pointed to the mountaintop, where a massive amount of forces were gathering.

"I know that man," Cullen remarked. "But this Elder One…"

"He's very angry that you took his mages."

"Cullen!" Victoria shouted, "Give me a plan! Anything!"

"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!" His eyes met hers with fear and desperation before he broke off, withdrawing his sword once more. "Mages! You-you have sanction to engage them! That is Samson, he will not make it easy! Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!"

Victoria helped to clear both turrets and launch them as quickly as possible, causing avalanches to fall over a great deal of the forces. When they thought the battle was over, a dragon appeared overhead. This would not end well. Victoria and her party headed back to Haven, trying to save as many of Haven's people as possible.

Victoria was relieved to see Cullen still alive at Haven's gates. "Move it, move it!" he shouted, ushering in the last of the surviving soldiers. "We need everyone back to the Chantry! It's the only building that might hold against...that beast!" He looked to Victoria then, defeat apparent in his eyes. "At this point...just make them work for it."

They assisted as many people as possible on their way to the Chantry, and rushed in, Cole holding Chancellor Roderick up as best as he could. "He tried to stop a templar. The blade went deep. He's going to die."

"What a charming boy," Chancellor Roderick muttered as Cole helped him to a seat.

"Herald," she heard Cullen call. "Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

"I've seen an Archdemon," Cole explained. "I was in the Fade but it looked like that."

"I don't care what it looks like. It has cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald."

"If you know why he wants me, just say it."

"I don't. He's too loud. It hurts to hear him," Cole said. "He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like…?" Cullen questioned, returning his gaze to Victoria. "Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."

"We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."

"We're dying, but we can decide how. Many don't get that choice." She marveled at his bravery. However, Chancellor Roderick suggested a path that the refugees could take to safety. Victoria would have to draw the dragons attention; death was certain.

"What about it, Cullen?" Victoria asked. "Will it work?"

"Possibly. _If_ he shows us the path. But what of your escape?" Cullen looked at her hopefully, clearly wishing she would give him the answer he desired. When it was obvious that she wouldn't he whispered, "Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way…"

She ran to him then, hugging him for what was probably the last time. Then she pressed their foreheads together. One final moment for the both of them. When Victoria broke away, Cullen turned to the people in the Chantry. "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!"

"Herald...if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you. They'll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder one's attention until we're above the tree line. If we are to have a chance-if _you_ are to have a chance-let that thing hear you."

It had been hours since the Inquisition made camp. There was still no sign of Trevelyan. There was nothing Cullen hated more than the idea of leaving her at the mercy of the Elder One and his dragon. What else could he have done? There are a million ways this could have gone, maybe there was a way the Herald could have survived if it wasn't for him thinking too narrowly.

That was when Cullen saw a group approaching. He took note of Cassandra, Dorian, Solas...but no Victoria. His heart sank into his stomach. That was it. He lost her. He collapsed into the snow, staring down and fighting back the tears. A few minutes later he saw someone kneel down in front of him. Cassandra wrapped him in a rare embrace. When they separated, she looked him in the eyes. "Cullen, she may have made it. We were turned away by a blast, but if anyone will survive, it's her."

He wanted to believe it, but when no one arrived hours later, his hope dwindled even further. He stared out into the abyss, until he could swear he saw a figure walking toward the camp. He rose, recognizing the posture-it was Victoria. Before he knew it, he was running to her, Cassandra and Maker knows who else following behind him. She was walking slow, her mark pulsing, pain obvious in her features. Just as she was about to collapse, he grabbed her, throwing his coat around her and bringing her into his arms. Cullen would never let her go again. He brought her to the first free cot and had Mother Giselle wrap blankets around the both of them. He wanted to do all he could to keep her warm. She was asleep in his arms now, breathing slow. Immediately Solas, Dorian and Vivienne rushed to them, Dorian bringing his flaming hands as close as he could to Victoria without burning her. Solas and Vivienne did the best healing magic they knew. After an hour or so, her body temperature returned to normal as well as her breathing.

Cullen sat for what seemed like an infinite amount of time waiting for Victoria to wake, never taking her out of his arms. Eventually he felt her stirring, and he rubbed her back, comforting her as best as she could as she opened her eyes. She looked up at him. "Cullen-"

He interrupted her by placing his lips on hers. He did not push himself on her; she was in no condition to kiss him back. "Victoria, _never_ do that again."

This elicited the smallest of chuckles from her, before she drifted back to sleep in his arms, one hand clutching his shirt as it did the night before.


	7. Chapter 7

It had taken Cullen an extremely long time to leave Victoria. Leliana and Josephine were chastising him for quite some time, but Cassandra stood quiet and firm until he trusted that she was okay. When she was sound asleep, her wounds carefully tended to, he allowed Mother Giselle to take his place as Trevelyan's guard.

When he finally joined his fellow advisors and Lady Cassandra, more yelling ensued. Cassandra insisted that the Inquisition continue. Cullen agreed, but knew that troop morale after losing Haven would be near impossible to muster.

"What would you have me tell them?" he argued. "This isn't what we asked them to do!"

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!"

"And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!"

"Please, we must use reason!" Josephine interjected. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled!"

"That can't come from nowhere!" Cullen's anger was growing.

"She didn't say it could!" Leliana retorted.

"Enough!" Cassandra shouted. "This is getting us nowhere!"

"Well, we're agreed on that much!"

Cullen withdrew from the other advisors now, frustrated beyond belief. Cassandra returned to her map while Leliana and Josephine sat by the fire. That was when he heard the familiar shuffle of the Herald. He looked up and saw her, still wearing his coat, and looking as beautiful as always. She had bandages on her legs, her ribs, and covering her mark, which had left burns on her hand when the Elder one tried to remove it. She had a new scar above her left eye, matching the one on her other side. He couldn't imagine how much pain she must be in, but she never showed it. She stood calmly, one side pressed up against a piece of wood holding up her tent, and sighed, clearly frustrated with the events of the day.

Even staring at Trevelyan all day wouldn't lift Cullen's spirits. There was so much unknown. Just as he was beginning to ponder all the negative outcomes of the attack on Haven, he heard Mother Giselle's voice.

_Shadows fall_

_ And hope has fled_

_ Steel your heart_

_ The dawn will come_

Cullen recognized the hymn, and by the looks of it, so did Victoria. She closed her eyes, wrapping herself in the comfort of the familiar verses.

_The night is long_

_ And the path is dark_

_ Look to the sky_

_ For one day soon_

_ The dawn will come_

Leliana soon joined in, helping Mother Giselle rally the refugees.

_The shepherd's lost_

_ And his home is far_

_ Keep to the stars_

_ The dawn will come_

Trevelyan looked to Cullen now and smiled, standing straighter. Without thinking he began to sing as well, followed by the remainder of the camp.

_The night is long_

_ And the path is dark_

_ Look to the sky_

_ For one day soon_

_ The dawn will come_

_ Bare your blade_

_ And raise it high_

_ Stand your ground_

_ The dawn will come_

_ The night is long_

_ And the path is dark_

_ Look to the sky_

_ For one day soon_

_ The dawn will come_

Cullen had looked up to find all of the refugees and troops down on one knee, bowing to the Herald. It had made him proud to know her. Not that he hadn't already felt happy to call her a friend, but seeing the way she could wordlessly change the mood of a whole camp with her influence was impressive.

She bowed her head in reverence to the people and dismissed herself, hurrying off somewhere with Solas.

A short time later she returned and beckoned the advisors to her. "All right," she sighed, visibly tired. "Solas told me something but it _must_ stay between all of us, understand?" Cullen, as well as Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra nodded their heads in agreement. When she was sure they would comply, she continued, "As I explained when I woke up before, the Elder One, named Corypheus, used a strange orb which implanted the Anchor on me. Solas said that this orb is an elven foci. Now, you can obviously see why I don't want this spreading; I'm confident that the elves have nothing to do with this, and pinning it on them would only cause more conflict. However, Solas has a solution-a way to cause less friction if it somehow does get out that the artifact is elven. He knows of an old elven fortress that the Inquisition can use and would be willing to help guide us there. Is everyone okay with this?"

The advisors nodded again, and relief filled Victoria's face. She was clearly afraid of how this news would be received, and with good reason; had anyone other than the mostly level-headed advisors heard, there would be chaos. "Cullen," Trevelyan said, "I want you, Cassandra, Solas and I to lead everyone starting in the morning. I would suggest we leave now, but I am very tired."

"Of course, Herald," Cullen complied. As the advisors began to disperse, Cullen felt a hand grab his arm and pull him closer. Trevelyan's breath was hot on his ear now. "Cullen," she whispered, causing a shiver to rise up his spine. "Cullen, I can't really walk right now and I don't want anyone else to know. Can you help walk me to a place to rest my head? Preferably where we can be close in case I need anything during the night."

"Absolutely," he said as he calmly linked their arms together, bearing a great deal of Trevelyan's weight. He escorted her to a bedroll next to his and she got under the covers immediately.

"Thank you," she whispered, bringing her lips to his cheek. He laid down on his bedroll next to her, only to find her staring at him.

"What?" he asked, noting her sly smile. He was really enjoying their little game now, indulging her at any time he could.

"Nothing," she chuckled, "Though, my marked hand does hurt a bit. Would you mind holding it, Commander?"

He laughed in return and scooted his bedroll closer to hers. He took her hand in his and began rubbing it while she placed her head on his. She looked up at him, bringing her unmarked hand to his lips, tracing them as well as his scar. Noticing his breathing pick up speed, she smirked and bit down on her lip.

He took her head in his free hand and drew their foreheads together in their usual gesture of comfort. Except this time, he took his hand from the back of her head and traced her cheek and lips, lifting her chin up. Their lips met for a brief moment and Cullen drew back. She rolled her eyes and chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder once more and drifting off to sleep. He couldn't let her win so easily now, could he?


	8. Chapter 8

Cullen awoke the next morning to Victoria tracing her fingers across his chest.

"Good morning, Commander," she said lazily. Clearly she hadn't woken up much earlier than he had. Her hair was disheveled, loose tendrils of her dark brown curls falling in front of her face. Her olive skin was without makeup, allowing the Commander to take in the entirety of her natural beauty. He allowed his eyes to start at hers, which were a piercing green in contrast with her lightly tanned skin. Freckles lined her high cheekbones and nose, an endearing feature that Cullen was rarely able to enjoy; the small marks that gave her face even more character and beauty were usually concealed, either by makeup, dirt, or the blood of her enemies. Next he trained his gaze on her lips. They were, for once, unpainted, bare and matching in tone with the rest of her skin. There were slight cracks, no doubt caused by the cold; and her one scar, which almost eerily matched his. Her lips were supple, forming a natural pout that made them more enticing. He had only gotten a small taste of her lips on his, but Maker was he hoping for more.

She rose slightly, clearly alarmed by his staring and lack of response. Her pout lifted ever so slightly as she asked, "And just what are you staring at?"

"Pardon me. I was just taking in the Herald of Andraste in all her glory." His honest response must have thrown her, because a blush rose to her cheeks and she let out a small giggle. "Are you well enough to travel?" he asked next. He didn't want her to rush into anything and risk further injury.

"Of course I am," she countered, acting playfully offended by the question. "My burns have healed, no doubt a result of the Anchor; it has its uses. I have a fractured rib and my legs are still very tired and potentially sprained. However, Solas will be leading the charge with us and has promised to use his magic to melt high snow for me, as well as occasionally tend to my rib. I'm ready, Cullen."

Just then Lady Cassandra interjected, "Good. Now if you two are done bullshitting, we have a lot of progress to make. We will want to spend as few evenings as possible out in the wilderness." She then turned to Trevelyan and said, "I am pleased to see you alive, Herald."

"I'm just pleased I got to see your smiling face again, Cassandra," Victoria countered, smiling from ear to ear.

There are few people that Lady Cassandra would take such a joke from, but the Seeker just smirked slightly and replied, "I'm sure you are," eliciting a hearty laugh from Trevelyan, who had to hold her ribs to prevent them from fracturing further.

"Oh, Maker, I should really learn to be less happy, my laughter may kill me," she joked. And although Cullen met her humor with a serious expression, it only caused the Herald to laugh more. Cullen loved that she could make a joke at even the most grim of situations.

Trevelyan rose, only a small limp remaining in her step, and gathered her things. When she finished, she pulled her hair back and stared at him, "Well, Commander? Does the injured Herald need to help you up?"

With that, Cullen rose, and minutes later they began their journey. Cullen helped lead the recruits, as promised, but he fell back, allowing him to bask in Victoria's astounding strength and ability to lead. Throughout the many days they travelled, whether it was when they joined their bedrolls at night, or when they were travelling through the snow, Cullen could hardly keep his eyes off her. Though she was clearly still injured, she did not waver during their journey. Occasionally Solas would have to subtly use a healing spell on her legs or ribs, but she never broke stride. She understood the urgency of arriving at shelter, but when a group of refugees needed to stop, she obliged, showing that she could be a fierce but caring leader.

"You've been watching her," he heard Cassandra say. He hadn't really thought to hide his admiration, but of course, the Seeker caught on.

"It's hard not to," Cullen admitted. "She is...amazing. She gives these people hope. Inspires them."

"I know," Cassandra agreed. "Which brings me to a question. I've already discussed it with Leliana and Josephine and they feel the same way I do. What do you think of making the Herald our Inquisitor?"

Cullen shifted his gaze back to the Herald. Her leg buckled briefly, and Solas responded by clearing a snow drift. She was always fighting, always pushing herself. Just then, she turned around to meet Cullen's gaze. She greeted him with a smile and a small wave, causing Cullen to return the gesture. Yes, he can't understand why no one thought of it before. Victoria Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste and object of Cullen's affection, would make the perfect Inquisitor. He turned to Cassandra then and replied, "I could think of no better leader."

"Good," Cassandra concluded. "We will give her a proper ceremony when we reach shelter. I would like to keep it a surprise though."

Cullen nodded.

They continued into the night. Victoria wouldn't stop; she knew they were close to their destination and her determination was relentless. Her legs were killing her, and giving out more and more frequently. Solas did his best to aid her without alerting the rest of the Inquisition. "We're almost there Herald, I promise."

Victoria chuckled and inquired, "Solas, what is this place? You told me it would be a fortress, but nothing else."

"By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. Changed _you_. Scout to the North. Be their guide. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build...grow…"

Solas looked up then, and Victoria followed his gaze. Before her stood an enormous castle. Well fortified, and with enough room to hold all the Inquisition's refugees. "Skyhold," Solas explained. It was beautiful. So beautiful that Victoria could cry. Though, to be fair, any shelter at that point would have been sufficient. She ran, uncaring about the pain in her legs, until she reached the inside of the fortress. There, she finally collapsed into the snow covering the ground. She turned onto her back and began making a snow angel and laughing. The tears streamed down her face. They were alive. They were safe. She had helped save them and herself. She closed her eyes and soaked it all in. Eventually, while everyone was exploring their new home, she heard footsteps coming nearer. Someone bent down and picked her up, and immediately she recognized his scent, as well as the softness of his coat.

"Cullen," she whispered.

"I'm taking you up to your room, Herald. You deserve a rest."

"Thank you, Commander."

She ended up falling asleep before he even put her down on her bed.

When she awoke in the morning, she was far less sore than before. No doubt, Solas and Dorian were doing all they could to heal her in the night. She arose from her new, warm bed in Skyhold to find a package on her desk. On top of it there was a letter.

_Herald,_

_ When you awaken, get dressed in this and meet us in the front of Skyhold._

_Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra_

Victoria bathed and then unwrapped the package. In it, there was a beautiful dress. It was powder blue, short sleeves, with a somewhat low cut front and gold embroidery on the bodice. It went all the way down to the floor, and was accompanied by a golden belt with the Inquisition's heraldry on it. Victoria felt like a queen. She used the Inquisition symbol hair pins to braid one side of her hair, curled the other side, and stepped outside.

Cullen, his fellow advisors, and Cassandra were discussing the plan for Trevelyan's inauguration as Inquisitor when he saw her. Her hair was curled to one side, dark brown locks framing her face. Her chartreuse eyes were lined with black and gold eyeliner, a gold that matched the frame of her bodice. He followed the golden pattern down her body, where the seam laid low on her chest. That was enough to make Cullen's mouth go dry. Maker, she was stunning. She smiled at him, her posture as regal as that of any queen. Cassandra and Leliana stepped nearer to her, while Cullen and Josephine took their positions below.

"They arrive daily from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage. If word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you."

"He came for this," he heard Trevelyan say, looking down at her mark. "And now it's useless to him so he wants me dead. That's it."

"The Anchor has power. But it's not why you're still standing here," Cassandra explained. "Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven. You are the creature's rival because of what _you_ did, and we know it. All of us. The Inquisition requires a leader, the one who has already been leading it. You."

Leliana was holding the sword now, displaying it for Trevelyan to see. She looked down at the people now gathering around the scene, shock written all over her face. She looked back to Cassandra, muttering, "It's unanimous? You all have that much confidence in me?"

"All of these people have their lives because of you. They will follow. I will not lie, handing this power to anyone is troubling. But I have to believe this is meant to be. There would be no Inquisition without you. How it will serve, how you lead, that must be yours to decide."

Victoria grabbed the sword in one hand and announced, "Corypheus will never let me live in peace. He made that clear. He intends to be a god, to rule over us all. Corypheus must be stopped."

Cassandra proclaimed, "Wherever you lead us. Have our people been told?"

"They have, and soon the world," Josephine responded.

"Commander, will they follow?"

Cullen turned around and shouted, "Inquisition, will you follow? Will you fight? Will we triumph?"

The crowd was raucous with approval when Cullen exclaimed, "Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!"

Victoria thrust her sword into the air and made eye contact with Cullen, smiling at him. After the ceremony, they debriefed their new Inquisitor on the conflicts that need to be addressed. They then returned to their posts. Cullen had gathered scouts at the bottom of the stairs to discuss troop movements and guard duty. Shortly after he began, the Inquisitor came over, still dressed in her gown.

"Send men to scout the area. We need to know what's out there."

"Yes, ser!" one of the scouts replied.

"Commander, soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters."

"Very good. I'll need an update on the armory as well. Now."

It was then that the Inquisitor stepped up to greet him. "We set up as best we could at Haven, but we could never prepare for an Archdemon-or whatever it was. With some warning, we might have…"

Trevelyan continued where he left off, asking, "Do you ever sleep?"

"If Corypheus strikes again, we may not be able to withdraw...and I wouldn't want to. We must be ready. Work on Skyhold is underway, guard rotations established. We should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here Inquisitor."

Victoria's expression fell as she asked, "How many were lost?"

"Most of our people made it to Skyhold. It could have been worse. Morale was low, but has improved greatly since you accepted the role of Inquisitor."

"Inquisitor Trevelyan. It sounds odd, don't you think?"

Cullen decided to look her in the eyes, then. "Not at all," he stated.

"Is that the official response?" she jested.

He chuckled, replying, "I suppose it is. But it's the truth. We needed a leader; you have proven yourself."

She paused, looking down before returning her gaze and muttering, "Thank you Cullen. Our escape from Haven...it was close. I am relieved that you-that so many made it out."

Cullen recalled the hurt he felt when he thought Trevelyan was dead. "As am I," he replied. When Trevelyan began to walk away, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to him, pushing a stray hair behind her ear as she stared up at him.

"You stayed behind. You could have-I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word."

She ran her hands through his hair as he moved his down to her waist, pulling her close. She ran her fingers across his lips and pulled him to her by his chin. Just as their lips were about to make contact, a scout came back, causing Victoria to withdraw. "We'll continue this conversation later, Commander," she said with a smirk as she walked away, making sure he was looking at her as she did so.


	9. Chapter 9

It was days before Cullen was visited by the new Inquisitor again. There had been much to do, and Trevelyan was usually at the forefront. He would occasionally ask Leliana's agents about her whereabouts only to find that she was in the Undercroft being fitted for armor, with Josephine discussing politics and meeting with nobles, or making sure everyone at Skyhold was comfortable. Though Trevelyan hadn't left the castle since they discovered it, it often felt as though she was miles away. After their near-kiss next to the castle's steps, Cullen couldn't wait to see her again.

He was running through the guard roster and making sure everything was up to date when she sauntered into his quarters. He had found a comfortable location, secluded enough for him to think properly, but with a gaping hole in the ceiling. Builders had tried to convince him to get it fixed, but at least with an open roof Cullen didn't feel like he was suffocating in his memories of Ferelden's tower.

"Hello, Commander," she piped, her head the only thing sticking out of the door frame. "Care to discuss some Inquisition business?" As she said this, she displayed the contents of her hand, which included two glasses and an unknown type of alcohol. Her eyebrow perched, eliciting a laugh from Cullen.

"Of course, your Worship. Have a seat."

She skipped in, revealing the rest of her; her top clad in an emerald green sweater, with black pants and boots to match. Cullen marveled at how stunning he found her even like this. She didn't need plunging necklines and open backs to show off her beauty, it was simply evident in her every movement. "Your Worship? How official."

"Should I not call you that?"

"On the contrary," she jested. "I quite like the idea of you worshipping me, Cullen."

He was thrown by her forward nature, and as always by hearing his name roll off her tongue. However, there was a game he must play. "You seem happy today, day off?" he inquired.

"Ah, quite the opposite, actually," she explained while pouring the liquor into the glasses. "Josephine had me fitted for new clothing. She says that the Inquisition must show its status even in something so simple as the clothes I wear, hence this new outfit. Made from the finest fabrics in the realm. After that I had to meet with some snooty nobles. I'm just happy now because I've finally gotten to visit you in your new home!"

"And I suppose the alcohol is my housewarming present?" he continued to act playfully with her; after all, their game was won by no one yet, the power still up for grabs.

"Absolutely, dear friend," she retorted, taking a sip from her glass. "However, I must admit that this visit isn't _entirely_ for pleasure." A blush rose to Cullen's cheeks at the thought of what Trevelyan visiting for pleasure would entail. "I've actually come to ask you about the Red Templars and their leader, Samson."

His stomach twisted at the thought of what his once-brothers-in-arms had become. All this time, templars in his mind existed to withstand and fight evil. The longer he was around them, the less true this became.

Sensing his mood change, she lifted his glass up and offered, "You can finish a glass before you start, if you'd like."

He expected to see humor on her face when he looked up, but was greeted with a much more serious expression. It was clear that she knew, even without asking, that this was hurting him. He grabbed the glass, nodded to her, and downed the liquor in one swig before he began.

"I've found where the Red Templars came from: Theirinfall Redoubt. The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over once their corruption was complete."

"How do you know Samson?" she asked, pouring them both another glass.

"He was a templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the order. I knew he was an addict, but this...Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness."

Victoria nodded solemnly. She was much more serious than usual when she responded, "The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough."

"We cannot allow them to gain strength," Cullen asserted, putting his glass down on the desk much harder than he expected. "The Red Templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them _and_ their leader."

Victoria rose now, moving around the desk and sitting on the edge. "Look at me," she whispered. When Cullen wouldn't comply, she grabbed his face and brought it up to meet hers. "Are you angrier at Corypheus or Samson?"

"I don't know," Cullen sighed, finally admitting his frustration. "Samson, at least, should know better. Caravans of lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where its being mined. If you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."

"You don't have to worry about me," Victoria muttered, stroking Cullen's arm in a manner that was very calming.

"I know," he replied, looking up at her and finally smiling again.

When she was finally confident that Cullen was okay, the Inquisitor rose and poured more liquor into their glasses.

This time, he started speaking on his own. He was angry over Samson, but if he could share that with anyone, it would be Trevelyan. "When I arrived in Kirkwall, Samson and I shared quarters. He seemed a decent man, at first. Knight-Commander Meredith later expelled Samson for "erratic behavior". He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets. He committed further crimes, but managed to evade the Order's justice. Now Samson serves Corypheus as his loyal general."

"Why do you think Samson joined Corypheus?" Victoria inquired immediately. She had just been waiting for Cullen to open up to her before she asked serious questions. Cullen admired that about her. She was unwilling to rush anything, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable or unhappy.

"He had a chronic lyrium addiction," Cullen answered honestly. "He spend every last coin buying it from local smugglers. Perhaps Corypheus flattered his vanity, gave him purpose as well as lyrium. Perhaps thats all it took."

"It sounds like Samson had a miserable life," Cullen heard Trevelyan whisper. Leave it to her to find sympathy for even a villain. She looked genuinely sad for a man who had recently tried to kill her. Her green eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that Cullen shared for the former templar.

"The Order expelled Samson, but he had choices. He could have found another path. I don't understand how he became so powerful. Even with red lyrium, Samson's glory days are long behind him."

"I see," the Herald concluded, though Cullen could tell she wanted to ask more. "So, is lyrium addiction common in templars?"

"As leader of the Inquisition, you…" Cullen sighed. "There's something I must tell you."

He saw her straighten her posture now, recognizing Cullen's serious tone. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to listen."

"Right. Thank you," he stammered, still startled by her constant acceptance of him. "Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well," he explained, pulling out the kit he used to take the lyrium. "Those cut off suffer-some go mad, others die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here. But I...no longer take it."

Victoria was examining the box containing his philter and related equipment when her gaze shot up to him. "You stopped?" she inquired, perplexed.

"When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."

"Cullen, if this can kill you…" she exclaimed, now standing.

"It hasn't yet. After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't...I will not be bound to the Order-or that life-any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it. But I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to...watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."

He watched as Victoria returned to his side again. She ran her fingers through his hair and asked, "Are you in pain?"

"I can endure it," he explained, nuzzling his head into her hands.

"Thank you for telling me. I respect what you're doing."

"Thank you, Inquisitor. The Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen...I will defer to Cassandra's judgement. Maker, where did I find such an accepting woman?"

The question stumbled out of his mouth involuntarily, no doubt a result of the alcohol he consumed. Both of them blushed, and Trevelyan looked him in the eyes and responded, "Well, if I can recall, the Inquisition pulled me out of the Fade."

She was smirking now, allowing him to return to his playful banter with her. "Ah yes, how foolish of me to have forgotten."

Their foreheads touched then, as they usually did, and Cullen whispered, "If this were any other time, more could happen here. But I'd prefer-"

"That we weren't intoxicated. I understand," Victoria interrupted. Her lips met his then, only for a brief moment as she concluded, "Perhaps our next meeting will include more than business. Goodnight, Commander."

Cullen's mouth went dry at the thought. If it felt right, he would have kissed her now. Not these small kisses they've been sharing-a real kiss. He had expected her to return to her quarters for the night. However, when she walked away, she continued up to his bedroom. Surprised, Cullen followed. He found her with her shoes on the ground, already comfortable under his covers. He took off his boots as well as his overcoat and joined her, and she immediately snuggled up against him. He placed his arm around her and began playing with her hair when he heard her whisper, "I don't like sleeping without you next to me."

"Nor do I."


End file.
